


In Tents (or: Connor McKinley Doesn't Like Camping)

by starlightandpinot



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Camping, Comedy, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Canon, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in tents, Sexual Content, Smut, and all over the campground, theres a lot of soft camping description like of the fire and smores and stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23703055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightandpinot/pseuds/starlightandpinot
Summary: Connor McKinley doesnotlike camping. Hehatesit. That is, until Kevin Price proves to him just how much fun it can be.Or: Connor has a tent kink and Kevin is not sorry about it.
Relationships: Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price
Comments: 32
Kudos: 81





	1. Connor Out of Water

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by [oui_oui_mon_ami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oui_oui_mon_ami/pseuds/oui_oui_mon_ami)‘s McPriceley camping fic, [Of Course (or: Kevin Price Doesn’t Like Camping)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074856). It is very cute and fluffy and you should read it if you want to smile. XD
> 
> I am still working on Second Star, this is just a fun side thing. This was actually sitting in my WIPs for like two years and I always came back to it whenever I needed something happy and fun to work on. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> All illustrations were made using a combination of Sims 4 and Reshade.

Connor McKinley just wasn’t the camping type. He tried to be, back when he was a kid, and his parents used to drag him camping once per year, citing the need to _get in touch with nature_ and _free themselves from the distractions of modern conveniences_. It all sounded great, in theory, but the only problem was: Connor McKinley _loved_ modern conveniences.

Sure, it was fun to go rafting down the river, dodging rapids and swimming in the open water. And, yes, making s’mores around the campfire was always a delightful activity, often accompanied by laughter and crackling fire and the telling of ghost stories. Those were the _fun_ parts of camping. But, as much as he loved digging into gooey s’mores while listening to someone play mediocre guitar and sing _Kumbaya_ , nothing could _possibly_ make up for the many inconveniences that went along with a camping trip. Things like going to the bathroom in an outhouse, for example, or bathing in an ant-infested, barely-functioning faucet they had the nerve to call a “shower”, or having this layer of disgusting _filth_ all over your body the _entire_ time you're there that just _refuses_ go away no matter _how_ many times you try to wash it off. And let's not forget the ever-present fear that bears or coyotes or wolves might appear out of nowhere and gobble you up while you’re sleeping—or _worse,_ eat all your food.

No, Connor McKinley much preferred for his bed to be comfortable, his shower to be clean, and for his body to not have insects crawling all over it as though it were a goddamn playground. It skeeved him out, all of it. Which was why, when the former Elders of District Nine suggested a camping trip for their annual get-together, Connor was _anything_ but eager. But there was also no way in Hell his friends would ever let him miss out on it, no matter how much he complained—least of all, his boyfriend, Kevin Price.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this,” Connor said, wrinkling his nose as he held up a pair of knee-high rubber boots that Kevin insisted on packing. _Rubber boots_. He still couldn’t believe his boyfriend actually owned a pair of _rubber boots_.

“Because it’s fun,” Kevin said, snatching the boots out of Connor’s hands and shoving them into his suitcase. “Hand me that blue box over there, will ya?”

Connor turned and picked up what looked to be an ancient box of fishing equipment. There was rust covering nearly the entire thing; enough to give somebody tetanus, probably. “This old thing?”

“Yeah, give it to me,” Kevin said, grabbing it out of his hands. He opened it up and proceeded to dig through the giant pile of fishing lures and hooks, his eyes glinting with fond nostalgia. The items within the box looked rather old and crusty, as though they may have belonged to his father; or, perhaps, even his grandfather.

“My dad gave me this box of fishing stuff when I was three,” Kevin said, proudly, confirming Connor’s suspicions about the age of the equipment. “Wow, will you _look_ at some of these?” He enthused as he held up a giant… _thing,_ in front of Connor's face. He wasn’t entirely sure what the item was supposed to be, but Kevin seemed to be waiting for some kind of comment from him on... well, on whatever it was.

“Nice.” Connor nodded, trying his best to feign enthusiasm. Despite the twinkle in Kevin’s eyes, he just wasn’t sure how much excitement he’d be able to muster up over a bunch of fake worms.

“Hey, look at this one,” Kevin said, his eyes lighting up as he picked up another lure; it was hot pink with a feather on the end. 

Connor grinned. “Now _that_ one’s more my style.”

“Then consider it yours," Kevin said, and tossed it over to Connor. “I’ll see if my dad has an empty lure box you can borrow.”

“I never knew you were such an outdoorsy type.” Connor smirked, taking a closer look at his new lure before setting it down on the table. “I have to admit, it’s kind of sexy.”

“Yeah?” Kevin asked, and playfully bumped his shoulder into Connor's, wiggling his eyebrows like the dork that he was. “Cause I have about five more boxes of fishing stuff just like this one. We could—”

“I take it back,” Connor coughed into his arm, backing away from the less-than-pleasant odor emanating from the box. “It’s not sexy." He coughed, again, and scrunched up his nose. "It smells like dead fish."

Kevin rolled his eyes. “That's what _fishing_ smells like, Connor." He leaned down and shoved his nose into the box of fishing equipment, taking in a comically large breath. “Ahhh.”

“Gross!” Connor laugh-coughed into his arm, backing up even more to hopefully get away from the horrid stench. _God_ , it was rancid.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been _fishing_ before,” Kevin said, his eyebrows raised in concern as he reached in to pull out another lure.

Connor shrugged. “My uncle used to take me when I was a kid, but I was never any good at it. After a while, he just started taking my cousin, instead.”

“Well, my family and I used to go camping all the time over at Bryce Canyon,” Kevin said, looking thoughtful as he placed the lure back inside the box and clamped the lid shut. “My dad taught me everything I know about camping and fishing." He turned to Connor, looking quite pleased with himself. “And now it’s time for me to teach _you._ ” He pointed in Connor’s direction with an evil grin on his face.

“Oh, great," Connor said with feigned enthusiasm. “Excuse me while I put on my excited face.”

With a roll of his eyes, Kevin tossed the pink lure right at Connor’s face. It made him laugh, of course. Kevin always made him laugh. But he still had to get even, and so he snatched it off the floor and swiftly chucked it back at Kevin. Their laughter eventually subsided, and Kevin stepped closer to Connor, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Kevin said, snaking his hands around Connor's waist and pressing him up against the wall. The touch made his knees turn to Jello. He loved it whenever Kevin got all _handsy._ “I think you’ll like learning how to fish from me." And then he pressed their lips together, making a low moan escape Connor's throat. Kevin's voice turned soft as he slowly pulled back. "I’m a _very_ good teacher, you know."

Connor laughed into Kevin's mouth. “Are you seriously trying to make the dead fish smell sound sexy again?” 

“Mmmm,” Kevin hummed, and leaned in for another kiss. “Is it working?” And then he smiled, wiggling his eyebrows up and down, again, like an idiot.

Connor answered the question by grabbing a fistful of Kevin’s thick brown hair and pulling him close. The man in his arms whimpered at the gesture, in a way that sent tingles down his spine, all the way down to his groin.

“Oh my gosh!” Came a loud gasp from the doorway. It was a woman’s voice. “ _Kevin!_ "

“Mom!” Kevin squawked, immediately yanking his hands from his boyfriend’s waist. He jumped back at least two feet away from Connor, a bright red blush blossoming on his cheeks.

“Boys,” Mrs. Price said, politely, feigning calmness as she nervously cleared her throat. She looked totally taken aback by the spectacle before her, but Connor could tell she was trying not to show it. He knew she was working to try and get used to the idea of Kevin having a boyfriend. They'd had enough conversations about it, over the past year or so, for Connor to know that much. Still, there was a difference between getting used to an idea and actually _seeing_ her son _kissing_ another man. He knew it made her uneasy, and maybe even a little disgusted, but he also had faith that she would get more comfortable with it, in time. For now, he and Kevin were trying not to take reactions like this one too personally.

“Sorry, Mrs. Price,” Connor said, sheepishly. “Kevin was just showing me his, uh… his fishing equipment.”

His mother’s eyes widened. “Is that—is that some kind of slang term for…?”

“What? No!" Kevin yelped. His face was flushed bright red from embarrassment as he reached down and nervously held up the box of fishing accessories. “The _lures_ , Mom. I’m bringing my old lures on our camping trip.”

“I see,” his mother said, not looking entirely convinced. But then she took in a deep breath and forced a smile, clapping her hands together as though trying to push the romantic encounter she’d just witnessed out of her mind. “Well, dinner’s almost ready, so don’t take too much longer, okay?”

“Okay, Mom,” Kevin said, and quickly moved to close the door behind her. Once it was closed, and his mother was safely out of earshot, Kevin leaned back against the door and sighed. “That was _so_ embarrassing.”

“I know, sweetie,” Connor tried to soothe, as he ran a comforting hand up and down his boyfriend’s arm. “But she seems to be handling things pretty well. Just give her a little more time, okay? She’ll come around."

Kevin nodded, but Connor could see that, despite his reassurances, there was still a layer of sadness behind those eyes.

“Come here, you." Connor reached out, tugging on the sides of his boyfriend’s jeans. “Don’t let your parents bum you out. We’re going _camping_ tomorrow, remember? Your favorite thing! Pretty soon you’ll be surrounded by bugs and fish and all that other gross stuff you love so much. Just focus on that, okay?”

“And s’mores," Kevin murmured, grabbing onto Connor's hips and bumping their lower halves together. “Don’t forget the s’mores."

He then leaned in for a warm, wet kiss, making Connor's insides melt. Strong arms were wrapped snugly around his waist, now, pulling him in nice and close as their kiss deepened. He felt Kevin’s tongue sliding delicately into his mouth, darting every which way, gliding over his own, swirling it around and around. He let out a soft gasp as Kevin ran a tender hand over his bottom, trailing a lone finger along the middle seam. Kevin's lips eventually moved down lower, to his neck, and then to his collarbone, nibbling and kissing in that slow, teasing way they always did.

Maybe camping wouldn’t be so bad after all, Connor thought to himself as he bit down hard on his bottom lip, trying his best not to make _sounds_. Kevin’s lips softly grazed his cheek as he pulled back up; his warm brown eyes, dark and glazed over, losing all of their earlier sadness. A stray patch of brown hair had flopped down lazily over his eyes, which Connor instinctively smoothed back with his palm. No, nothing could ever be that bad, as long as he was with Kevin—not even pooping in a dirty outhouse or being surrounded by disgusting dead fish smell or having to share a shower with a thousand tiny bugs.

Scratch that; camping sucked royal ass, even if he _did_ get to share a tent with his unbelievably attractive boyfriend. He’d just have to make the best of it, that’s all.


	2. Glamping

After an exhausting drive from Kevin’s parents’ house to the campsite, Kevin, Connor and Arnold finally arrived at the campground in the early afternoon. The trek had, unfortunately, taken two hours longer than it was supposed to, on account of Arnold’s car getting a flat tire. Arnold had _insisted_ on driving and, for some strange reason, nobody objected, even though his car was ancient and _way_ too small; too small to fit the three of them, anyway, plus all of their bags, plus all of Kevin’s ridiculous _camping equipment_. Connor, on the other hand, had packed much more sensibly. He’d only brought along the essentials: five changes of clothes, his iPod, a cell phone charger, a hair dryer, several towels, shampoo and conditioner, and a few other necessities that Connor had learned from his time in Uganda that he had trouble living without.

After they fixed their flat tire and had an argument over what was the culprit—Arnold’s terrible driving or the weight of Kevin’s belongings—they finally got to the campsite, relatively unscathed.

 _Finally_ , Connor thought. _Maybe the fun will start now._

But, alas, t’was not so. 

Connor’s seemingly far-fetched dreams of opening a bottle of rosé and enjoying a char-grilled burger by the fire were halted by the amount of _stuff_ Davis had brought with him. He'd managed to bring even more useless camping equipment than Kevin; which was, honestly, quite a feat. Unlike Kevin’s, though, Davis’s stuff required _assemblage._

“Guys, we’re not just going camping,” he said, as he opened the trunk of his hatchback and showed everyone the amount of supplies he'd managed to stuff into it. “We’re going _glamping_.”

Connor rolled his eyes at the stupid pun, but he helped Davis and the gang set up the giant canopy and fancy grilling station, anyway.

Even Connor had to admit, though, that by the time they were done, the campsite did look freakin’ _awesome._ Now, they would be able to keep all of their food dry and have a nice place to hang out, even if it rained. Connor _really_ hoped it wouldn’t rain. Camping was dirty enough to begin with, without the added grossness of crawling into their tent at night, after a long day of roughing it, covered from head to toe in mud. He shuddered a little just thinking about it.

Once the canopy and the rest of Davis's _glamping_ equipment had been fully assembled, all of the former Elders went to work setting up their tents. Connor tried to help Kevin set up their ridiculously-large-for-two-people tent, but he honestly wasn’t sure if he was helping or hindering the progress. By the time five o'clock rolled around, though, all of the tents were up, and the former Elders were busy arranging their chairs around the firepit, where Kevin and Arnold were hard at work trying to make _flames_ appear. Connor plopped down into his chair, in front of where the fire was supposed to be, a plastic cup of wine in his hand and book on his lap. He was so beyond ready for some relaxation, but he wasn’t expecting to also get a little show along with it.

“You’re doing it wrong again,” Kevin growled for about the umpteenth time. "Here, let me do it."

“No, trust me, buddy," Arnold assured him, as he frantically waved a paper plate over the teeny tiny flame. "I got this."

“That’s not - that's not how you _do_ it, Arnold.” Kevin lunged for the plate, but Arnold managed to evade him. "Will you _please_ just let me handle it?"

But Arnold kept on waving the plate over their pitiful excuse for a fire, anyway, like a madman, eventually causing it to fall into the fire pit. It smothered the fire almost instantly, and whatever residual flames were left quickly ate away at the plate. It eventually died out, leaving nothing but a piece of charred paper in its wake.

With a dejected sigh, Kevin resigned to squirting lighter fluid onto the pile of firewood. He had boasted to the group earlier in the day about how he had been the _only_ one in his entire boy scout troop growing up who could start a fire _without_ the use of lighter fluid. He seemed to be a little out of practice, though, given the current state of things; that, or Arnold's antics were making him cranky enough to give up on any attempt at heroics. Connor got up and gave him a pat on the back, once the fire had finally caught, and told him what a good job he’d done. That always seemed to make Kevin feel just a _little_ less grumpy.

About an hour later, the fire was finally roaring - big and orange and proper - and the sun was beginning to set behind the horizon. Davis was busy grilling burgers and hot dogs for the group on the fancy-looking grill over by the glamping tent. The scent of grilled beef smelled absolutely heavenly, to Connor, who hadn’t eaten a single thing all day; not since their sad, pathetic gas station breakfast that morning, anyway.

It was getting darker, now, and Kevin was still stoking the fire pit with a stick, just as he had been for the past two hours. A grin was on his face, though, thanks to the size of the flames. They casted a soft, orange glow across the strong features of Kevin's face as he bent over, stoking the wood with a stick. _He has good cheekbones_ , Connor thought idly to himself as he sipped on his wine and watched Kevin nurse the fire. He was quickly learning that the firepit was Kevin’s baby - a baby of which he was constantly protecting from the crazy antics of Arnold Cunningham, who seemed to take great delight in observing how various plastic cups and cutlery melted under the flames.

“Nice fire, Kev,” Davis nodded, approvingly, as he passed around a plate of burgers and hot dogs to the group. The compliment had Kevin beaming like a dumbass, making Connor giggle to himself just a little. Kevin was so cute. Very cute, actually. Very cute Kevin with the good cheekbones. He had done well, Connor thought, nabbing Kevin Price as a boyfriend. Even after two years together, it still amazed him, sometimes, how lucky he was to have somebody like him. And not just because of how good-looking he was (though, Connor did certainly find that aspect of his boyfriend’s feature set to be _quite_ delightful); but, no, it was more about how sweet Kevin was, in his own dorky and honest and surprisingly innocent way. That was what made Connor's heart do that _thing_ it did sometimes.

“Looks delicious,” Connor said as he grabbed two burgers and a hot dog off the tray. He was practically salivating at the smell. Finally, _food._ He watched on as Kevin continued to tend to the fire instead of sitting down to eat, unlike all of the other former Elders who were relaxing and digging into their dinners. 

“Sit down with me, Kev,” Connor said, patting the seat next to him, in their utterly _ridiculous_ "couples chair", the one Kevin had insisted on buying for them off of _Amazon_ —so that they could, quote-on-quote, _"_ cuddle by the fire _"._

At Connor’s prodding, Kevin finally tore himself away from the fire and climbed into the seat beside his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his waist and nuzzling his face into his neck. He tried to nab the hot dog off Connor’s plate, but he just slapped his hand away.

“No way.” Connor moved the plate away from Kevin so he couldn't reach it. “Get your own food, fireboy.”

Once their bellies were content and full with barbecued meat and alcoholic beverages, Arnold suggested they have a little sing-along. Michaels had brought his guitar with him, and so they figured they might as well. Yes, it was a bit corny and lame for them to do, but that’s exactly what this group was: a bunch of twenty-two year old ex-Mormons who practically lived for lame and corny. Connor giggled at Kevin’s terrible singing voice as he sang along to _Kumbaya._ He couldn't sing to save his life, but he happened to be the only one in their group who knew the words. Well, besides Davis. _Camping people_ , Connor thought to himself, with a shake of his head.

After a few more songs, Kevin pulled out the marshmallows, along with the chocolate bars and the graham crackers to make s’mores. They all liked to toast their marshmallows just a little bit differently, Connor noticed, as he watched how each Elder put theirs together. 

Kevin liked his marshmallows charred to a crisp (literally, _black_ ), and so he would set them aflame and then let them burn for a moment before frantically blowing them out. Watching Kevin scramble to blow them out made Connor laugh every single time. Kevin tended to do a lot of things that made Connor laugh. Silly Kevin. Silly, cute Kevin with the good cheekbones.

Connor preferred his marshmallows to be roasted to a perfect golden brown. He held them far away from the flames, going for a slow, steady cook. It was the total opposite of Kevin’s method and, whenever Connor did it _just_ right, the inside of his marshmallow would be delightfully gooey and the outside just _slightly_ crispy. He would then neatly arrange the graham crackers on his plate, topping them evenly with a little bit of chocolate, before slowly pressing them together with the marshmallow, making quite possibly the world’s most beautiful s’mores. 

Kevin, on the other hand, was a maniac with his s’mores, filling them with _way_ too much chocolate and too many char-black marshmallows for Connor's taste. And whenever he would bite into them, the lower half of his face would get completely covered in chocolate-marshmallow gooeyness. Connor sat next to him, shaking his head, unable to resist the temptation to keep wiping at his face with a damp paper towel. It was like having a child. He was a _child_.

After s’mores, most of the Elders were exhausted and decided to head off to bed in their tents. Connor couldn't blame them. It had been a long day, and they all had to wake up at seven o'clock the next morning to go rafting down the river. Connor was actually sort of looking forward to that part of the trip, just as long as he didn’t have to see any fish. Or snakes. Or turtles. Or get dirty. Or smell like fish.

Alright, so maybe Connor wasn’t looking forward to rafting as much as he'd originally thought.

By the time midnight rolled around, everyone had gone to sleep except for Kevin and Connor. Kevin had announced to everyone that he would stay behind to put out the fire and clean up; but, even after everybody else had retired to their tents, he made no move to stand up. 

Connor was leaning back into Kevin’s stomach in their silly two-person "cuddle chair", his boyfriend's arms wrapped snugly around his waist. They were so close, he could feel Kevin’s chest heaving up and down against his back, the warm air from his breaths hitting the back of his neck. Being together like this, basking in the stillness of the night, under a blanket of twinkling stars, in front of a crackling fire, just felt so cozy and - and _nice_. He felt peaceful, here. Loved _,_ even.

Connor must have been smiling a huge dopey grin because he started to feel Kevin smirking into his neck. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt it from behind like that, but he _definitely_ felt it.

“For someone who doesn’t like camping, you sure look happy,” Kevin whispered into his ear, the hot breath from his words dancing across Connor’s earlobe. It sent a shiver down his spine. 

“Hmph,” was all Connor said in reply, but he knew the big dopey grin was still plastered to his face, telling Kevin everything he needed to know. 

He let out an audible gasp at the warmth of Kevin's lips as they pressed against the back of his neck. Kevin’s kisses could be so gentle, sometimes; so tender and patient and slow. So slow, that it sometimes drove Connor completely bonkers. He loved it whenever Kevin kissed him like that. It felt as though a thousand little butterflies were fluttering their wings against his skin and it just made his whole body fill up with warm, fuzzy feelings. Kevin had a habit of making him feel like that a lot. Not that he was complaining or anything. He just hoped he made Kevin feel even half as happy. 

“Wanna get to bed?” Kevin asked, softly, still planting tiny kisses down Connor’s neck; slowly, teasingly.

“Mmmm, not yet.” Connor shook his head and tried his hardest to melt deeper into Kevin’s body. “I like it here.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Because I remember a certain _someone_ calling my awesome cuddle chair ‘ridiculous’ and ‘silly’,” Kevin teased with another smirk that Connor could _feel_ against his neck. “Now who could _that_ have been?”

“I don’t know,” Connor said, his eyes still closed. “But he sounds like kind of a dick, if you ask me.”

The comment made Kevin _laugh_ and whenever Kevin laughed like that, an honest laugh from the pit of his stomach, Connor’s smile would always grow so big he swore it could touch his ears. He honestly couldn’t think of a more perfect sound than the sound of a happy Kevin. Maybe the sounds of a desperate Kevin, whimpering and gasping and twitching under his touch—maybe that rivaled laughing Kevin _just_ a little bit. But, no, the sound of a happy, laughing Kevin was Connor’s favorite Kevin of all. And he had a lot of favorites. Too many to count.

Kevin squeezed him a little, his hands moving to rub little circles into his belly. Connor could hear himself humming in contentment at the touch. He hadn’t even meant to - it just fell out of his mouth. Between Kevin’s hands caressing his middle and his lips rhythmically peppering kisses along his neck, Connor felt himself being lulled to the brink of sleep. At some point, Kevin must have glanced down at his watch, as he often did, because he was suddenly tapping Connor on the shoulder. 

“Alright, come on. We really have to get to sleep, now,” he whispered into Connor’s ear. “It’s almost one in the morning and we’re getting up at seven.”

Connor sleepily grumbled something that didn’t make much sense, in response to this most distressing news of needing to _get_ _up_. What was up? Up didn’t exist in Connor’s vocabulary anymore. He was abruptly jolted awake, however, by the sudden emptiness of Kevin vacating their chair, his head flopping unceremoniously against the back.

“ _Kevin_ ,” Connor whined, and he almost _never_ whined. “Why are you doing this to me?”

His eyes were still closed, but he could overhear the sound of Kevin’s laughter as he put out the fire, the bucket of water cascading over the flames making a _hiss_ sound. And, even though he didn’t want to, Connor McKinley found his lips curling up once again. 

“I hate you,” he muttered sleepily as Kevin pulled him up by the arms and lead him to their tent, Connor's body leaning helplessly into his boyfriend’s side, one of Kevin’s strong hands clasped around his hip.

“I love you, too.”


	3. The Tent

As they crawled into their tent together, Connor collapsed immediately onto the floor with a content sigh. It was surprisingly comfortable. Thank _goodness_ Kevin had the foresight to bring one of those blow-up air mattresses. He couldn’t even imagine sleeping on the hard ground. Camping was rough enough without having to wake up with a backache.

It was dark in there until Kevin flicked on their little kerosene lamp, lighting up the inside of their small dwelling with a warm, dim glow; another one of Kevin’s camping trinkets that Connor hadn't understood why he bothered to pack until now.

“No,” Connor murmured, squinting as the light assaulted his eyes. “Light, bad.”

Kevin chuckled as he yanked off his pants, tossing them to the side before grabbing his backpack. “Sorry. I'll be done in a minute.”

Connor peeked open his eyes, watching as Kevin slipped his shirt off. He was down to just his little briefs, now; a navy blue pair with the phrase _best boyfriend ever_ written across the elastic waistband. Connor had gotten them for Kevin last Christmas, as a joke, but Kevin actually ended up liking them enough to wear them as everyday underwear.

Connor was content to lay there, watching his boyfriend as he got ready for bed. They didn’t often share a bed like this - not properly, anyway - considering they both still lived with their parents. They were both twenty-two years old, but they still lived at home, and so their parents insisted on making them follow the rules. In Mormon households, that meant no sharing a bed until they were married; possibly not ever, considering they were the same sex. They still managed to have sex with each other, though, despite all that; usually late at night, tucked away in the far corner of Connor’s basement, after his mother went to sleep.

It was relaxing, to watch his boyfriend perform his little bedtime ritual of folding his dirty clothes and putting them aside, followed by carefully selecting his clothes for the following day. He always picked out his clothes the night before, even down to his underwear. This time, it was another _best boyfriend ever_ pair, in fire engine red.

Connor found himself squirming a little, as he laid there, growing more and more turned on the longer he gazed at Kevin - his Kevin. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of having sex _here_ , in their flimsy little tent, surrounded by all of their friends, sleeping not more than ten feet away from them. But, now... well, _now_ he was most certainly considering it. What was the morality of that, anyway? It would probably count as _semi_ -public, wouldn’t it? Considering they were only separated by paper-thin canvas and all. 

_No_. He shook his head and tried to push the dirty thought out of his mind, despite the growing bulge in his pants, gnawing at his sensibilities. It just wouldn't be right. And, knowing Kevin, his boyfriend _definitely_ wouldn’t think it was right.

Nevertheless, Connor reached out and playfully snapped the waistband of Kevin’s briefs, pulling him out of his bedtime ritual funk.

“Hey.” Kevin flashed him a smile. It was fond and warm. “What was that for?”

“You’re cute,” Connor said, simply, with a mischievous grin. “And _naked_.”

With a smirk, Kevin leaned down to kiss Connor on the lips, placing a hand to his waist and pressing him down into the bed. “I thought you were half-asleep already.”

“Mmmm,” Connor murmured into the kiss. “I was, but then you took your clothes off.”

“Sorry,” Kevin whispered, softly, breathing into Connor’s mouth. “Should I put them back on?”

“No.” He shook his head, running a slow hand down his boyfriend’s tanned, bare chest. It was smooth, for the most part, with just a few prickly hairs here and there, rubbing against his skin. 

Kevin laid another gentle kiss to his lips before slipping on his nightshirt and flicking their little kerosene lamp off. He pulled Connor close to him as he laid back down, cradling him into the nook of his body reserved especially for him; where he fit perfectly, exactly like that.

“This is nice,” Kevin sighed, sounding content as he nuzzled into the back of Connor’s neck. 

He was right. It was nice. They didn’t often get to sleep together like this, like a proper couple in a proper bed, like normal people in their early twenties typically did.

His hand found Kevin’s, the one draped over his middle, holding him snug against his chest. He gave the hand a squeeze and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the eerie sounds of the wilderness outside their tent, as well as the bothersome nagging he was starting to feel down in his groin.

But then came a series of soft murmurs from Kevin’s mouth and a smattering of kisses along the back of his neck. He wasn’t even sure if Kevin was still awake or not, or if it was just instinct at this point. Connor heard himself letting out a barely-audible moan as Kevin’s nose brushed up against the back of his ear. He wasn’t even sure _why_ he felt so turned on all of a sudden. They’d laid in this position hundreds of times before - thousands, even - doing the exact same thing, without Connor feeling like... _this_.

Maybe it was because they were in a flimsy little tent in the middle of nowhere, the distant sounds of wolves and crickets and Lord knows what else pouring in through their thin, fabric walls. Maybe it was because Kevin was right here, so close to him, his strong arms wrapped around his waist, or the way he secretly found all of Kevin's camping and fishing knowledge to be oddly sexy. Or, maybe, as much as Connor didn’t want to admit it, it was simply the thrill of doing it in a place where he knew other people would surely hear them. 

Maybe it was all of the above. Upon thinking about it for a moment, Connor had a feeling it was _definitely_ all of the above.

He shook his head. _No_. It would be wrong. It would be so, _so_ wrong. They couldn’t do that _here_. They were so close to the others, to their friends. So close he could hear Arnold’s loud snoring and Neeley’s occasional bouts of sleep talking. They couldn’t do it _here_. It just wouldn’t be right. 

But Connor’s body continued to fight him on that, telling him the complete opposite. His body thought it would be fun—adventurous, exciting, _sinful_. And the more he tried to convince his body how wrong it would be, the harder his erection became, pushing out against his underwear. 

He sat up, sighing in frustration as he scooted over, as far away from Kevin as he could get. The hand that had been holding his waist flopped limply onto their blow-up mattress. Maybe this would fix it, he thought, as he curled into a ball on the other side of the bed. It was probably Kevin’s _hands_ on him and the breaths hitting the back of his neck that were doing these things to him, making him _feel_ this way.

Only, the feeling didn’t go away. If anything, it just became stronger and more pressing the longer he laid there; the more he imagined Kevin having him right there on the floor of their tent, in the middle of the campsite, surrounded by people on all sides. The idea _thrilled_ him. He didn’t want it to thrill him. He didn’t even know something like this _could_ thrill him. But it was hurting, now - it _ached -_ and, so, with great, pained reluctance, he slowly allowed one of his hands to slip down the front of his shorts. He felt ashamed, and he tried to be quiet about it as he stroked himself. He really did. He even buried his face into the pillow, biting down on it to muffle out the sounds, but it was no use. The noises still escaped his throat. They were mostly restrained, thank God; that is, until he was about to come. He let out a loud, sharp gasp as he stroked himself with greater urgency, and then all of his plans were foiled.

“Connor?” Kevin asked, sounding sleepy and worried as he sat up in bed. He pressed a hand to Connor's shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Connor gasped, sounding breathless and annoyed as he reluctantly let go of himself. He suppressed a groan as he felt that familiar ache come back with a vengeance, nagging him once again; even more so, now, that he had been so _close_. He clamped his eyes shut, feeling agitated and unsatisfied as he brought his hand out of his shorts. He had been so, _so_ close to being done with this whole embarrassing ordeal and now he was right back where he started.

“You sound out of breath,” Kevin whispered, reaching up to feel Connor’s forehead. “And sweaty. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Connor turned over, closer to Kevin, and buried his face into the warmth of his chest. “No," he shook his head into the soft material of Kevin’s undershirt, “No, I’m not alright.”

With that, Kevin sat up and flicked their little kerosene lamp back on, so he could properly see Connor’s face. The moment the light turned on, and Kevin got a good look at him, Connor saw a wave of instant recognition wash over his face.

“Oh,” Kevin whispered, as he very well knew how Connor looked whenever he was doing... _that_. “Were you just…?”

Connor groaned before his boyfriend could even finish his sentence, planting his face smack down into the pillow. He didn’t want to look Kevin in the eyes. It was so embarrassing. This whole thing was just so, _so_ embarrassing. The feeling of being exposed and utterly humiliated should have tarnished his erection, made it fade away and shrink into oblivion. But it did no such thing. It was still throbbing beneath his shorts. 

The tent. It had to be the tent. And the camping. And the wild animals lurking just outside. And their friends, sleeping only a few feet away. It _had_ to be.

He then felt a warm hand rest against his back. Kevin’s hand.

Connor rolled over and met his eyes. They were sparkling with a playful little glint, looking almost... _amused_.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered as he curled himself against Kevin’s side. His boyfriend’s arms met him halfway, pulling him in close. “I’m just feeling really turned on for some reason.”

“We just had sex last night,” Kevin reminded him, smoothing back his floppy, damp hair with his palm. “I thought that'd be enough to get us through the next few days.”

He was right. It should have been enough. Between work and school, they really only had sex maybe once every couple of weeks, sometimes once a week, if they weren’t feeling particularly stressed out about anything. It should have been enough for them to get through the next few days without bumping uglies, but now... oh, no, now Connor’s body felt as though it were on _fire_.

“If I tell you,” Connor whispered, timidly, “You have to promise not to laugh at me.” He searched Kevin's eyes. "You have to _promise_."

Kevin pulled back a little, looking rather confused. “Uh.. okay, I guess. What is it?”

“I think it has something to do with being with you here, in the…um..." He swallowed hard before whispering, “...in the _tent_.”

Kevin’s eyes widened. “The tent?”

“Yes, the tent,” Connor quickly repeated, not wanting dwell on it any longer than they had to. “The whole camping thing, everything about it… It’s making me _feel_ things and I don’t — I don’t know why.”

Kevin snorted loudly at that; so loudly that he actually fell back down on the bed and began bubbling over with laughter.

“You promised me you wouldn’t laugh!” Connor whisper-yelled, a fresh surge of shame shooting through him. “You promised!”

But Kevin just kept on laughing like a child who’s just heard the funniest thing in the world.

“This is _not_ funny,” Connor chided him in an angry whisper, but Kevin just continued his relentless giggles, regardless. Connor smacked him in the arm. “I'm in _pain_ here, Kevin. This isn't funny."

“It’s _so_ funny,” Kevin laughed again and pulled a very disgruntled Connor back into his warmth. “But I’m really confused—I thought you _hated_ camping. And sleeping in tents.”

“I do,” Connor insisted, positive that his face was beet red from embarrassment. “I _hate_ it.”

“Yeah?” Kevin smirked, latching onto Connor’s hips and pulling him closer. His hand slowly trailed down from his hip, grazing over the painfully hard bump in his pants. Connor closed his eyes, accidentally letting out a low moan as he felt Kevin’s fingers caress his bulge. “’Cause it doesn't feel like you hate it. It feels like you _love_ it.”

“Shut up,” Connor gasped, squirming a bit at the touch. “This isn’t funny.”

“You’re right. It’s not funny,” Kevin said, making a measly attempt to sober up his face. “It’s totally not funny that you got _so_ turned on by being in the tent with me that you actually felt the need to start _jerking off_ in the middle of the night like a fourteen-year-old boy. That’s not funny at all.”

Connor felt his cheeks burning as he looked away. “Look, if you’re not going to _do_ anything about it, then can we please just go to back to sleep?” Feeling frustrated and agitated, he flopped back over onto his side in annoyance, facing away from Kevin.

“Hey, I didn’t say that,” Kevin said, his tone softer now as he snuggled up behind him, snaking an arm around his waist. “I’ll help you, but you have to promise to be really quiet, okay?”

Connor’s heart nearly stopped beating at the words. Oh, thank _God_.

Silently, and at the complete mercy of his partner, he turned over to lay on his back, gazing up at him with desperate, pleading eyes. Kevin's arms were still cradling him as he laid there, expectantly, his chest heaving up and down in excitement, anxiously awaiting to experience whatever Kevin had in mind for him. He just wanted to feel some sweet release from this torture—because that's what it felt like: _torture_.

But before he could stop himself, more words began spilling out of Connor’s mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”

Kevin’s eyes widened at that. They didn’t typically use that word when talking about their sex life. It was typically softer, quieter, more romantic than that.

“Oh, um, okay, but I—I didn’t bring anything with me… you know, for that,” Kevin stammered, faltering a little as he reached down and clasped his fingers around the waistband of Connor’s shorts. He dragged them down, slowly - _too_ slowly - popping them up and over his erection before dragging them down over his legs. The feeling of the material grazing over him, of finally being _unshackled_ , was almost too much. “I didn’t think we’d be doing this… here.”

“Mmmm,” Connor moaned as he kicked off the shorts. His voice was hoarse and desperate. “I don’t care. I need you.”

He reached up and pulled a very surprised-looking Kevin down into him, rougher and more forceful than usual. “Inside me,” Connor whispered into his mouth, raspy and helpless. “I need to feel you inside me.” 

The sound of the words coming off his own tongue sent an exciting little shiver down his spine. If his body thought the idea of doing it in the tent was thrilling before, back when it was just a fantasy, then his body _definitely_ found it thrilling, now.

“We can’t do that,” Kevin said, laughing softly into the kiss. It made Connor let out another pathetic whine.

“Why not?” He asked, as though he didn’t already know the answer. But, he did. He also knew damn well how needy and insistent he sounded as he begged, but he couldn’t help it. He had _needs_ , dammit.

“Because there are a _lot_ of people here, Connor,” Kevin explained, firmly, clearly wanting to knock some sense into him. “They’ll hear us. Besides, we couldn’t if we wanted to. I didn’t bring any lube or condoms or anything.” That fact made Connor let out another agonized groan. “I can touch you, though,” Kevin offered. “I’ll touch you, if you promise not to make too much noise. Can you do that?”

“Mmmph,” Connor let out an unsatisfied grunt, nearly a whimper, as he felt Kevin’s hand grip onto his bare hip and give it a squeeze. “Isn’t there a store?” He asked, sounding desperate. “Down by where we came in?”

Kevin laughed, again, but then his face fell serious. “Wait, what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued! I'll be trying to update this fic every week, or every two weeks, until either it is done or the quarantine is. I am still working on Second Star, this is just a fun little side thing. This was actually sitting in my WIPs for like two years, and I always came back to it whenever I needed something happy and fun to work on.


	4. The Tent: Part II

“There’s a store, remember?” Connor mustered out through a ragged breath. “Down by where we came in. I’m sure they have stuff we could use.”

“The _store_?” Kevin’s eyes went wide, blinking down at Connor as though the suggestion was nothing short of lunacy. “It’s two o’clock in the morning and you want me to go to the _store_?” 

Connor wrinkled his brow. “Yes?”

“No,” Kevin let out a short, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head as he backed away. “No. No way, Connor. Not gonna happen.”

Connor tried to put on the coyest, poutiest face he could muster as he scooted closer to Kevin on their flimsy little air mattress. He ran a slow hand down the front of Kevin’s chest—one of the first steps required in turning Kevin Price on, which he _needed_ to do if he was going to have any chance at getting his way.

“Please?” Connor begged, in the most seductive tone he could manage without sounding comical. “For me?”

He was tugging at the collar of Kevin’s nightshirt, now, as he stretched his bare legs out behind him, against the blankets. He deliberately angled his hips upward, in that way he knew drove Kevin positively _wild_ and slightly parted his thighs, so that Kevin could get a good look at how badly he needed this, needed _him_ ; and what Kevin would be missing out on, if he didn’t give it to him.

He knew exactly how much of a sucker Kevin Price was for the sight of his soft, lightly freckled skin (which, even Connor had to admit, looked especially enticing tonight, under the dim glow of their little kerosene lamp). Kevin’s eyes travelled downward, sticking to Connor’s thighs like sweat on skin. He licked his lips in response, in the very predictable way Connor had expected him to. 

He rubbed the material of Kevin’s nightshirt between his fingers as he leaned in, letting the softness roll against his skin. “If you do this for me,” he whispered, brushing his lips just slightly over Kevin’s ear, “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Kevin choked out an almost-laugh, seeming bemused at Connor’s desperation, but his eyes hadn't left their place, trained on the skin of Connor’s thighs, at the evident desire between his legs. 

Connor smiled inwardly, feeling the invisible power shift back in his direction at that _look_ in Kevin's eyes; at the way they refused to lose sight of Connor’s thighs, as though they were jewels. A flush was gradually filling his cheeks and Connor could tell his resolve was weakening. His ridiculously-transparent eyes always gave it away. 

“The store might not even be open,” Kevin eventually mustered out an excuse, looking as though he was desperately trying to keep his composure amid the rising heat, but Connor could tell how flustered he was getting. His cheeks were growing redder and cuter by the second and he had taken to yanking at his collar, the one Connor had just been toying with only moments before, pulling at it as though the temperature in the room had suddenly skyrocketed. 

Connor smiled. His tactics were working. 

“Just let me touch you so we can go back to sleep, okay?” Kevin went on, looking even more conflicted now as he watched Connor run a slow hand over his thigh.

Connor let out an exaggerated groan at the offer of a mediocre handjob, trying his best to sound needy and insistent and all those other things he knew would eventually make Kevin crumble. He sat up after that, making sure to show off his body once again as he stood on his knees, wrapping his hands around Kevin’s neck and _squeezing_ it. He was trying his best to play innocent, dumb, _coy_ , despite the fact that Kevin could see right through it. Connor knew he could, _obviously_ , but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work. It always worked.

“Just this one time, okay?” He pleaded, running a teasing finger over Kevin’s lips, making them part under the touch. “For me?”

“Connor,” Kevin closed his eyes with a frustrated sigh. “It’s two o’clock in the morning, okay? We’re getting up at seven to go rafting. That’s only _five hours_ from now. The store probably isn’t even open and, in case you’ve forgotten,” he lowered his voice to a harsh whisper, “We are completely surrounded by _people_ right now.”

“Mmmm, I know.” Connor wiggled his eyebrows and flashed Kevin his cheekiest grin. “That’s what makes it so fun.”

Kevin rolled his eyes at the comment, but Connor could tell he was struggling to suppress a smile. He could always get Kevin to smile, eventually; to let his guard down, to _crack_ , and this time would be no different. 

“So, come on,” Connor went on, with a nuzzle to his ear, “What do you say?”

“You’re insane,” Kevin said with the slightest hint of admiration in his voice, but the look in his eyes was growing more and more conflicted, airing on the side of giving in. “You’ve gone completely insane. You know that, right?”

“And you,” Connor grinned as he moved in closer, trailing a slow finger down Kevin’s chest, “Didn’t answer my question.”

Kevin rolled his eyes, and another rush of crimson dusted his cheeks. Connor could tell he was about to cave. That much was evident in his eyes, and Connor knew it was time to pull out the last tactic he had in his arsenal, the one he was certain would really seal the deal. He stood up a little, on his knees, liking the way Kevin’s eyes still haven’t moved from the space between his legs, and climbed slowly into his lap. He pulled Kevin close by the collar of his nightshirt, forcing him to meet his eyes as he straddled him with his thighs. He took his sweet time as he did so, trying to look as tempting and alluring as possible. 

“Don’t do this,” Kevin chided, but Connor could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips and his eyes were sparkling with that _look_ ; the look that Connor knew _oh_ so well. He could tell Kevin’s lips were struggling to stay even, trying not to curl up under Connor’s all-too-obvious-and-possibly-ridiculous attempt at seduction, but his eyes couldn’t hide the way his lips could, shining all bright and mischievous and dark at the same time.

 _Yes._ Connor smiled. His tactics were _definitely_ working.

“Come on,” he brushed his nose against Kevin’s ear, and lowered his voice to such a deliciously raspy whisper that it actually made his own skin tingle, “You know you want to.”

“We _can’t_ ,” Kevin insisted. His words came out louder than they had before, but Connor knew by the subtle waver in his voice that his boyfriend’s walls were about to crack. His cheeks were rosier than Connor had seen them in months and his eyes were big and hungry and twinkling, making his already-wholesome, corn-fed face somehow look even more innocent. It sent another surge of desire rushing through Connor’s body, before stopping and piercing his groin.

Kevin swallowed hard as Connor began trailing delicate kisses down the nape of his neck. Another weakness of Kevin’s. Warm, eager hands were soon wrapped around Connor’s bare waist, followed by his hips, and then his thighs, grabbing and squeezing at the softness of his skin. It was always Kevin’s way of begging Connor to keep on doing whatever he was doing, a silent way of saying _please don’t stop_.

“Fine,” Kevin let out a strained breath, his face burrowed into the fluff of Connor’s hair. “You win, alright?” He let out another heavy exhale into Connor’s ear, warm and hot against his skin. “I’ll go to the goddamn store.”

Connor pulled back, pausing a moment to take a long, skeptical look at Kevin— _his_ Kevin—whose dark eyes looked just as needy and insistent as Connor felt; his normally well-kempt hair messy and disheveled with sweat.

“Really?” Connor asked, a triumphant grin spreading across his face when Kevin nodded. “Wow,” he exhaled in surprise, “That was almost _too_ easy.” He then lifted himself off Kevin’s lap, making sure to give his boyfriend another nice view as he fell back against the bed. “You’re getting soft in your old age, Kevin Price.”

“But you _have_ to be quiet,” Kevin warned as he rolled off the side of the mattress, scrambling to find his pants. “Like _really_ quiet.”

“Hey,” Connor frowned as he settled back into the blankets, “I’m always quiet.”

Kevin snorted in reply as he hastily yanked his pants up over his thighs, not bothering with a belt or a retort to Connor’s comment. He shoved the hem of his nightshirt haphazardly into his pants and fumbled around with his wallet, nervously counting his money before sticking it back in his pocket. 

Once he was ready to go, he leaned back down and placed one last kiss to Connor’s lips.

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he breathed into Connor’s mouth as he pulled back. “Why am I doing this?”

“Because you’re the _best boyfriend ever._ ” Connor smirked. “At least, that’s what it says on your underwear.” 

And he would have snapped at the waistband of said underwear, just as he'd done before, if they weren’t already hidden beneath Kevin’s khakis. 

“You say that to all your boyfriends,” Kevin teased, a stupidly large grin spreading across his face as turned to unzip the tent flap. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes," he said, then sent a pointed glance back at Connor. “You _better_ not fall asleep on me, McKinley.”

Connor scoffed. “I have _never_ done that.” 

“You have _totally_ done that,” Kevin retorted. “Need I remind you of the Disney World incident? I still haven’t forgiven you for that.”

Connor blushed at the reminder, squirming a little under the scrutiny. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t if I wanted to,” he arched his hips up a little, just to make a point, “Not this time.”

Beaming dopily back at Connor, Kevin made a rather ungraceful exit by falling backwards out of the tent and flopping to the ground with a hard _thud_. A snort-laugh erupted from Connor as he watched on at the spectacle, his boyfriend’s hushed grumblings and muttered curses as he struggled to stand back up reminding Connor exactly how much he loved him.

He flopped back onto the mattress a moment later, giggling all to himself as the pitter-patter of Kevin’s frantic footsteps faded into the distance. He liked the idea of Kevin running like a madman across the campground in rapid pursuit of their sex supplies. The thought had Connor squirming once again as he laid there. The anticipation of what was to come was quite literally the worst. But it would be okay, he told himself, as he let out a deep breath. Kevin would be back in fifteen minutes. He could wait fifteen minutes. He could resist the urge to take care of himself for fifteen minutes. 

He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else, _anything_ else—anything other than Kevin fucking the living bejesus out of him in their paper-thin tent; but, alas, that was the only thing on his mind. At least he wouldn’t be in danger of falling asleep this time. That was a plus.

-

“ _God_ , you took forever,” Connor chided the moment Kevin came tumbling back into the tent, brown paper bag clutched in one of his fists. The knowledge that the store had what they needed was enough to send another surge of desire up and down his spine and he wasted no time before grabbing Kevin roughly by the collar and pulling him close. “I thought you’d never get back.”

Kevin made a face. “I was gone for twenty minutes.”

“Right, but you told me fifteen,” Connor said, making quick work of unbuttoning and unzipping Kevin’s pants, fumbling a little under his own impatience. “And that last five minutes was _torture_.” 

Once Kevin’s waist was finally unshackled, Connor pushed him down on the mattress so he could yank the pants off, over his feet. He pulled Kevin’s _best boyfriend ever_ underwear off next, but chose to leave his socks on. He kind of liked it whenever they did it with socks on. 

Kevin snorted at Connor’s comment about his lateness, at his ruthless impatience, and he even got so far as to open his mouth, probably to say something in retort, but his lips were soon being assaulted by Connor’s and he didn’t seem to care much, anymore, about whatever it was that he was about to say. The unsaid words were soon replaced by a low moan pouring from his lips as Connor grabbed the back of his neck and rolled them both over to the middle of the mattress, 

“We are _so_ bad.” Connor grinned mischievously against Kevin's mouth as their hands began to wander over each other's skin. “Our friends are _right_ outside.”

“Mmmm,” Kevin hummed through the kiss, “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Connor said, his grin widening into something wicked, “This is exciting and you know it.” He bit down on his lip in an attempt to stifle a moan as Kevin’s lips wandered over his cheek, on its way to his neck, sucking and nipping at his skin. “We’re in a _tent_ ,” he huffed out through a pant for air, “We could get caught. Doesn’t that give you a little… _thrill_?”

“No,” Kevin murmured into Connor’s neck—he was sucking at his _neck_ , now, and it just felt so fucking _good_ , “It gives me heart palpitations.”

Connor rolled his eyes, but his annoyance at Kevin was short-lived, soon to be replaced by a warm, familiar feeling bubbling in his chest as Kevin’s hands began gliding up and down his sides, down to his hips and over his thighs. Each touch was gentle and purposeful, much like it always was, and Connor wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to suppress the urge to make _sounds_. Loud sounds. Louder sounds than he was already making. Sounds that were not at all appropriate for where they were right now, who they were _with_. He felt them there, tickling at the back of his throat, begging Connor to set them free.

“Oh,” he let one of them out the moment Kevin finally touched him where he wanted it most. “Oh my _God_.”

“ _Shhhh_ ,” Kevin hushed him, placing a lone finger over his mouth. “You need to be quiet, remember?”

He let out a pained groan in response, prompting Kevin to press an entire hand over his mouth, to muffle out the noise, while his other hand worked to stroke him. Connor wasn’t sure why, but the idea of Kevin stifling his moans with a firm palm against his mouth somehow served to make this whole thing feel even _more_ illicit and exciting than it already was. They continued on like this for a few minutes until Connor couldn’t take it anymore and began wriggling around beneath the touch, squirming with each movement of Kevin’s hand. His boyfriend always knew when to relinquish him, however, a skill he’d perfected over the past couple of years, and did so before Connor was too far gone. 

“Are you going to be quiet?” Kevin asked in a voice almost too raspy to be real, and tentatively lifted the hand from Connor’s mouth.

Connor nodded obediently, practically salivating as he watched on; watched as Kevin opened the brown paper bag and prepared himself with the supplies he’d bought at the shop. It was incredibly sexy to watch. It always was. But his boyfriend also seemed to be taking his sweet ass _time_ with it and Connor was growing restless under all this preamble. 

“Are you doing this to me on purpose?” He whispered through a frustrated sigh as he watched Kevin rub the lube over himself at a painstakingly slow speed. “I’m _hurting_ over here.”

There was an amused twinkle in Kevin’s eyes as he looked up and met Connor’s; a look that stayed glued to his face the entire time—the entire slow and _agonizing_ time—he took to climb between Connor’s legs and run a slow hand through his hair. “You are _so_ impatient sometimes.”

“And you,” Connor circled his arms around his neck, knocking their foreheads together, “Are _mean_.”

Kevin seemed to enjoy the comment, seemed to enjoy how _mean_ he was being, and proceeded to go as slow as goddamn possible as he prepped Connor for sex, squeezing a large dollop of lube onto his finger and then sliding it into him, moving it in and out, over and over again, at a tantalizingly slow speed. He finally slid a second finger in after far too much time, curling them up into a _come here_ motion with every movement, the tips of his fingers hitting Connor exactly where he needed him to.

But it wasn’t enough. He wanted Kevin to _fuck_ him. He wanted Kevin to fuck him in the _tent_. He wanted Kevin to fuck him with such urgency and passion and reckless abandon that the former-Elders surrounding them would surely hear his cries. It was _sick_. And Connor knew this. He had tried to stop himself from indulging in this fantasy earlier, tried to quietly take care of his _little problem_ all by himself while Kevin was sleeping, but now—well, now he was too far gone. Now, the prospect of Kevin fucking him in the tent where everyone could hear them and know exactly what they were doing was no longer just a fantasy; it was _reality_ , and he didn’t really care anymore how twisted or sick it was. Kevin’s relentless teasing was nearly putting him over the edge, now, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it.

“Will you please just get _on_ with it?” Connor exhaled out, his body twitching under the thrusts of Kevin’s fingers. “You’re _killing_ me here.”

“What do you mean?” Kevin asked, with an air of feigned innocence as he slid a third finger into his opening. Connor gasped again. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re good and ready, that’s all.” 

The comment would have made Connor snort if he wasn’t knee deep into _feelings_ , jaw dropped open with every curl of Kevin’s fingers. He knew Kevin was just messing with him, knew it by that stupid _glint_ in his eyes; knew that Kevin just enjoyed making him _wait_ , making him wait _far_ too long. Connor would have thought it was cruel, if they hadn’t already done this bit hundreds of times in the past. 

“You used to like it when I took my time,” Kevin went on, deflecting Connor’s hand as it fumbled around between their bodies, trying desperately to push Kevin’s dick inside of him. “You called it sweet and considerate.”

“Yeah, well,” Connor spoke through a gasp as the fingers slid back into him, “You haven’t been this _considerate_ since we were in Uganda.” He shuddered a little under the touch as Kevin slowly stroked at his insides. “You’re just trying to fuck with me.”

“I would _never,_ ” Kevin said, but he still had that amused _smile_ on his face, that _glint_ in his eyes, and Connor knew he was full of shit. He removed his fingers from Connor, anyway, wiping them off against his leg as he leaned down and met his lips in a kiss. Connor pulled him close by his messy mop of brown hair, grabbing at it and yanking on it, trying to make it clear how much he _needed_ it—needed _Kevin_.

“Please,” he whined. “Just _do_ it already.”

“Are you _sure_ you want to?” Kevin asked in a soft whisper, his eyes still shiny with amusement. He ran a slow hand down Connor’s cheek, then over his bottom lip, trailing it lengthwise. “Because if you changed your mind, I could just—”

“God, I _hate_ you,” Connor growled and pulled him into a rough kiss. “I hate you so much, it’s crazy.”

Kevin let out a soft laugh mixed with a moan as they rolled around on the mattress, despite previously chastising Connor for his noisiness, and it didn’t take much longer for Connor to get what he wanted. Kevin always gave him what he wanted, eventually. They bit and sucked and devoured each other’s lips as they got into their usual position, Kevin leaning over Connor’s middle, hands grasping at each other’s hair and skin and those soft spots in their flesh, the ones that each of them had in different places; Connor’s, on his thighs, and Kevin’s, around his waist.

And then came the familiar feeling of Kevin filling him, stretching him, making him _whole_ again, and a loud, unfiltered cry escaped his lips. He didn’t know what it was, exactly, as it was stronger than a moan, but he did know it was embarrassingly loud. He hadn’t meant to be so loud, of course, but the feeling of Kevin finally giving in, of being _inside_ him, in the goddamn _tent_ , at the goddamn _campground_ , was enough to block out whatever small vestige of common sense he had left.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Connor closed his eyes, tightening his grip on the back of Kevin’s neck with a hard gasp. Several more exclamations of appreciation fell from his lips into Kevin’s ear before he realized how loud he was being. He should have felt bad about it, should have felt embarrassed that someone might have heard him, but there was this other part of his brain, the twisted part, that sort of _wanted_ their friends to hear him. It was just one of the many things that made all of this so exciting.

 _It’s sick_ , Connor inwardly cursed himself. _You’re sick_.

But Kevin didn’t seem to think so. Not anymore. Connor knew this once he opened his eyes and looked up at Kevin, who was smiling down at him, whispering a soft “ _Shhhhh_ ” as he pressed that _palm_ back over Connor’s mouth. His big, brown eyes were shiny with love and amusement as he thrusted into him, no longer seeming to care about the fact that they were being so _bad_. He only seemed to care about Connor, now; about pleasing Connor and _fucking_ Connor. The thought was enough to make him let out another muffled cry right into Kevin’s hand; that _thrill_ he felt earlier, back when all of this was just a pipe dream, a fantasy, rushing through his veins. He closed his eyes again as he felt Kevin’s other palm wrap around him, where he needed it most.

They found their rhythm rather quickly. They always did. And Connor didn’t last more than two minutes before biting down on Kevin’s palm and spilling out all over his fist. He didn’t mean to come so quickly. He usually lasted five to ten minutes, at least. Sometimes, even fifteen. But there was just something so unbelievably naughty and dangerous and _filthy_ about being _here_ , in the tent, in _public_ , that made his body betray him, responding with a quickness he hadn’t felt since the first time he masturbated at age thirteen. 

It was a rather intense feeling, whenever he came too soon but Kevin was still going, as his insides were far too sensitive from his earlier release and he felt every thrust a thousand times more. It elicited sharp gasps from the depths of his throat as Kevin continued to pump into him and the feeling was, at times, overwhelming. But Connor didn’t really mind. He welcomed the waves of electricity that rocketed through him as Kevin took him, content in the knowledge that he was giving pleasure to his boyfriend. It didn’t take Kevin much longer to follow suit, anyway. It never did. Connor always knew whenever Kevin was about to come by the way his movements would speed up, getting rougher and urgent and _deeper_ , before abruptly slowing down, his body going suddenly tense, then rigid, as he let out a low gasp into Connor’s ear. This time was no different, and pretty soon he felt Kevin’s body go limp in his arms, collapsing on top of him with a content, elongated moan. His hand slipped from its position against Connor’s mouth at some point during all this, seeming too taken by the _feeling_ to care anymore about who could hear what.

They fell asleep like that soon after, surrounded only by the thin canvas of their ugly camo-colored tent, tangled up in each other's arms; sweaty, happy, and sated. 

Connor honestly thought it would be enough—that _this_ would be enough; that illicitly going at it like bunnies in the tent, in the middle of the night, surrounded by six of their former mission brothers, would be enough to satisfy Connor’s newfound _urges_ for the remainder of their long weekend. 

He would soon find out, however, that oh _boy_ was he wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! In case you couldn't tell, I had wayyyyy too much fun writing this. I will try to actually update soon as it's a nice break between writing sad stuff.


	5. Bottoms Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is a triple entendre, y'all! If you can guess all three in the comments, I will give you a virtual cookie. :)

Tents are shit at keeping the sunlight at bay. 

Connor learned this early the next morning when it quite rudely shone through the thin green canvas of the tent and assaulted his eyes. Groaning in protest, he rolled over onto his stomach. He expected to find Kevin sound asleep beside him, but his outstretched arm just flopped down to the nearly-deflated air mattress. Probably from the beating it had taken the night before. 

His lips curved slightly at the memory, but he was much too annoyed over the rudeness of the sun and the early morning hour and there not being any _Kevin_ in the bed to properly form a smile. It didn’t help that he could overhear their apparently-wide-awake friends gabbing and laughing just outside the tent, over what smelled like bacon and eggs. He grabbed Kevin’s pillow and pulled it snugly over his head to try and drown out the noise, but it didn’t work. 

He then heard Kevin saying something about “checking in on Connor”, eliciting an inexplicable round of chuckles from the group. What the Hell was so _funny_?

Throwing the pillow off his head and putting on his best scowl, he leaned over and checked his phone for the time. _Seven-thirty_. He sighed. Kevin had _explicitly_ stated they needed to be up by seven a.m. sharp, as they had an eight o’clock appointment with the river people (or whatever you call those whose job it is to dole out rafts to paying customers in the obscenely early hours of the morning.)

He let out another groan as he sat part-way up, just in time to see Kevin’s far too cheerful-looking face poking into the tent. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he sang, a shit-eating grin stretched across his face that Connor had a good mind to smack right off. “Sleep well?”

“Shut up,” Connor mumbled, wincing a little as he begrudgingly sat all the way up. His bottom was sore from their late-night escapade and his back was _not_ meant to sleep on a flimsy blow-up mattress, least of all one that was lacking in air. He closed his eyes for a moment and stretched, to try and straighten out the kinks in his back. 

“Coffee,” he yawned, smacking his dried-out lips together as he blinked his eyes back open. “I need cof—”

But Kevin was gone. Connor sighed. Unwilling to budge his exhausted, decaffeinated body more than a few inches, he stuck an arm out of the open tent flap, letting it fall limply to the ground, hoping it would flag Kevin to come back over. He needed to get a few sips of coffee into his system before he could even _entertain_ the possibility of getting dressed and leaving the tent. 

Kevin must have known this, as Kevin knew most things about Connor, as a cup of iced coffee was being thrust into his waiting hand a few moments later. Their friends seemed to find the interaction highly entertaining, judging by the barely-stifled snickers that once again erupted from the group. 

What the Hell was so _funny_? He was actually starting to get pissed off.

Unable to open his eyes all the way because of the goddamned _blazing_ _sun_ , Connor stuck his head out of the tent in dismay. He was shirtless (well, he was butt-naked, actually, but _they_ didn’t need to know that) and he didn’t really care how exhausted and disheveled he probably looked. All he cared about was sending them his best no-nonsense glare and hopefully shutting them up. 

The last thing he expected to receive in response was a chorus of suggestive _woo-hoos_ and flirty whistles. His brow creased in confusion until he looked up at Kevin, who was smirking down at him like the dumbass he was, his eyes practically screaming _I told you so_.

Oh. Right. It had been Connor’s brilliant idea to get busy in the tent last night. The group of former-Elders must have heard them, if the crude display of clapping and laughing and whistling in front of him was any indication. It was insanely embarrassing and Connor found himself withering under the good-natured ribbing, a wave of heat crawling up his neck and burning at his ears. On the upside, at least they found his and Kevin’s late-night transgression to be amusing instead of being upset about it. That was a plus.

He quickly retreated back into the tent and took a big swig of his coffee. He needed to be properly caffeinated if he was going to deal with this.

“I hate to say I told you so,” Kevin said as he flopped back into the tent, “But I told you so.”

“Okay, listen here, mister.” Connor held up a finger and narrowed his eyes at Kevin, who still had that annoyingly smug _smirk_ on his face. “First of all, it takes two to tango, alright? And from what I recall, you weren’t exactly _complaining_ about it last night. And second of all... “ he went to go on, but quickly realized he didn’t have a good second of all prepared. “And second of all... you were the one who let go of my mouth halfway through.”

“Yeah, well, I was a bit _distracted_ ,” Kevin replied, not looking angry in the slightest.

Perhaps he had enjoyed himself too much to feel angry, even though Connor knew that he was the most private of private people and probably detested the fact that the others had heard them.

“And I only covered your mouth because you broke _your_ end of the bargain,” Kevin went on, curling his body against Connor's side on the wilted air mattress. He leaned in closer, so that his breath blew hot against Connor’s ear. “You were supposed to be quiet, remember?”

“Yeah, well, it isn’t always possible,” he softened his tone when Kevin leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek. Connor’s eyes fell closed a moment later as a pair of wandering lips began their familiar journey downward, pressing kiss after kiss along his neckline.

It didn’t take long for Connor to relax into the strong, welcoming arms—into _Kevin_ —whose hands were already thumbing over his bare stomach, sending pleasant little currents over his skin. And as much as he didn’t _want_ to—he was still annoyed, after all—he couldn’t exactly help the contented hum that fell from his lips as he lost himself to the feeling. 

The problem was that Kevin’s hands were very soft and had the most blessed tendency to drift absent-mindedly over his body, lulling him into a kind of trance. It was a talent of Kevin’s that he almost never got to use in the early morning hours, as they rarely got to wake up together like this. Like normal couples did.

While their families were somewhat supportive of their relationship and they were able to spend time together in each of their respective homes, both sets of parents were still rather strict when it came to ‘overnights’. He and Kevin were quite adept at sneaking around and having sex, regardless, most notably in Connor’s dingy, barely-ever-used basement. Sometimes they even pulled off the occasional renegade sleepover, but it simply wasn’t the same. He missed the freedom they had in Uganda, and he supposed that the glimmer of independence they were experiencing here, at this godforsaken campsite, mirrored it _just_ enough to have him yearning for it once again.

But as much as Connor would have loved to stay like this all day, wrapped up in Kevin’s strong but gentle arms, he knew he couldn’t. They only had about twenty minutes to get down to the river and they _couldn’t_ miss rafting. That was Kevin’s favorite part of the whole trip, apparently—second only to fishing.

“Mmm… I need to get ready,” Connor hummed as he reluctantly pulled away. He took hold of Kevin’s wandering hand, brought it to his lips, and pressed a delicate kiss against his knuckles. “What does one wear to go rafting, anyway?” 

“A bathing suit,” Kevin murmured and pulled Connor right back into him, lightly grazing his nose against his ear as he pulled him close. “Preferably the too-tight blue ones with the little sailboats on the pockets.” 

Connor’s lips slid into a grin as Kevin attacked his neck with another round of kisses. There wasn’t any way he could ever stay mad at Kevin (or their friends, for that matter.) Not even the fake bickering kind of mad. Besides, the whole ‘sex in the tent’ thing _was_ kind of his fault. 

Alright, maybe it was entirely his fault.

* * *

“Do I really have to wear this?” Connor asked as he attempted to fasten the ugly, fire-engine-red life preserver the river person was making them wear before they could board the rafts. “It’s really killing my outfit.”

“They’re for safety, not fashion,” Kevin countered, and then his hands were already on Connor’s vest, trying to undo whatever fuckery he had done with the ties.

“They’re hideous.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Kevin smirked, pulling one of the straps tightly around Connor’s waist, “I think it looks kinda cute.” 

“Really?”

“Sure.” He patted Connor’s vest, looking rather proud of how quickly he’d managed to fix it. “It matches your hair and with that pale skin and those blue shorts, you look almost like a flag.” 

Connor wrinkled his nose. “A _flag_?”

“A really _cute_ flag.” Kevin leaned in and planted a kiss to his cheek.

Connor rolled his eyes, but he could feel the corner of his mouth twitching up, regardless. Silly Kevin. Silly Kevin with the terribly-crafted compliments and irresistible smile. 

“Well, at least there’s beer,” he sighed and lifted the cooler he’d been relegated to carrying. Not that he minded, as he made sure the biggest cooler would be going in the raft he’d be sharing with Kevin, Chris, and James. 

James came running up to them soon after, three partially-deflated tubes dangling from one arm and a beachball pressed into his side with the other. “I got the tubes!” 

“And I got the tunes!” Chris ran up beside him, happily waving his waterproof speaker. “This is gonna be _fun_.”

“It is, but don’t forget we all need to take turns rowing,” Kevin reminded them as he fastened his own life preserver with practiced ease. “I thought we’d do a fifteen-fifteen-five rotation.”

“What the Hell is that?” Connor made a face, not at all liking the sound of this _rowing_ business. 

“Oh.” Kevin seemed surprised at the question. “It means two of us row for fifteen minutes, then the other two for fifteen, then the original two for five, then back to fifteen starting with the second pair, and then you just keep on rotating like that.”

He spoke as though this should have been common knowledge, but Chris and James didn’t seem to have a clue and Connor was already regretting not passing up on the whole rafting thing.

“ _Rowing_?” Chris huffed to his boyfriend. “You didn’t say _anything_ about rowing.”

“Hey, don’t look at me!” James held up his hands. “This is news to me, too.” 

Kevin’s eyes flickered between the three of them, a look of genuine confusion on his face. “Well, how _else_ do you expect the raft to move?”

“I don’t know.” Chris shrugged. “Rapids?”

“Yeah.” James nodded at Kevin. “Aren’t they supposed to just _push_ us along?”

“Well, there _are_ rapids, sure,” Kevin said, looking a little put out at all the pushback he was getting. “But there are also a bunch of dead spots where we’re gonna have to row.” He paused a moment, glancing between the three of them in disbelief. “I’m sorry, I thought you already knew this.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Chris sighed, his incorrectly-fastened vest looking rather comical as he leaned back into James’s stomach. “You told me this was gonna be fun.”

“I did.”

“You lied.”

Kevin’s face fell as the pair continued to bicker and Connor knew he’d have to do something to fix it, pronto. The whole rafting... excursion… thing… had been Kevin’s idea. It was the part of the trip he'd been looking forward to the most and Connor knew he wanted nothing more than for everyone to love it as much as he did.

“Guys, guys, it’s alright!” Connor raised his voice over the sounds of Chris and James’s squabbling, distracting them by holding up the cooler. “We have _alcohol_ , remember? I even shoved a box of wine in this baby.”

Chris’s eyes widened, then gleamed. “You got it to fit?”

“ _Oh_ , yeah.”

“How?”

“Brute force.” Connor grinned, tugging the overstuffed cooler behind him as they made their way down to the edge of the river. 

It smelled less than inviting, kind of like dead fish. He felt the instinctual urge to complain about it, to spout off about the horrid stench that somehow smelled even _worse_ than Kevin’s tackle box, but he managed to keep his mouth shut. He didn’t want to bring Kevin down. Not when his face was all lit up again like a goddamn firework. 

“Come on,” Connor wrapped an arm around Chris’s shoulders as they stepped tentatively into the mucky water, where the raft was waiting, “This is gonna be _fun_.”

* * *

Only it wasn’t. 

Kevin had greatly underestimated the “rowing” aspect of the whole thing, and there was a lot of yelling and panic whenever they were forced to steer the raft away from large rocks, shallow water, and bouts of violent rapids. It was way more intense than Connor could have ever imagined and, at times, downright terrifying. 

He would be lying if he didn’t admit it _was_ a little exhilarating, but in that life-and-death sort of way that left one feeling frazzled and thankful just to be alive. Michaels fell out of the other raft twice and even super-camper Davis looked a little nervous when they got stuck on a rock. 

Kevin apologized and said it wasn’t always like this, but that they had no way of predicting how rough it was going to be. Connor coped with the stress by downing a beer or a swig of boxed wine whenever the water was temporarily calm. So did the rest of the group and by the time they got to the still water, where supposedly they could get out and swim, everyone but Kevin was half in the bag. 

“I can’t swim in this,” Connor stood tipsily in the raft, barely aware of Kevin’s hands on his arms, steadying him. “Look at all the dead fish!” He made a disgusted face and turned away. “ _God_ , why can’t anything here just be normal? I mean, is that really so much to ask?”

Kevin peered into the water and even _he_ looked mildly grossed out by the amount of dead fish floating about. 

“Yeah, that is kind of weird,” he admitted with a frown. “I’ve never seen it like this before.” Seeming to get his optimism back, however, he shrugged and flashed Connor a smile. “But if they’re dead, they can’t hurt us, right?” 

“No, that would be the eels!” Davis shouted from the neighboring raft with a wicked grin.

“ _Eels_?” An icy chill ran down Connor’s spine. He glanced down at the water. “There’s _eels_ in here?”

Davis shrugged. “Yeah, but don’t worry. They set traps for them. No one’s gotten bitten in years.” He spoke nonchalantly, then downed a long swig of his beer. 

Connor shuddered and turned away from the water. “Gross.”

Kevin and Davis—the only veteran campers in the group—had tied the two rafts together with a bungee cord, that way they could float peacefully in the calm water without losing one another. They had been warned, however, that they only had an hour or so to swim before they’d approach another stream of rapids. And then they could finally get off this goddamn raft and have lunch. 

They brought lunches with them in the cooler, of course, but just as Connor was about to dig into his sandwich earlier, it fell and landed in the dirty raft water. Eventually, the sandwich and the water became one, forming a brown, carby sludge in the bottom of the raft that completely turned his stomach. If he wasn’t already so tipsy, he probably would’ve puked. 

“Well, _I’m_ jumping in,” Kevin announced and grinned over at Davis. “You ready?”

“You bet!” Davis looked back at Neeley and tossed him his Go-Pro video camera. “Get me and Kev jumping in, okay?” 

The two camping people (plus Arnold, because… well, there was very little that could deter Arnold) jumped into the dead fish water with a splash, while the rest of the group was more than content to lounge about the rafts, talking and laughing and drinking beer.

“Didn’t you bring the speaker?” Connor slurred at Chris, leaning back into his seat and waving a hand behind him. “I need tunes.”

“Oh, yeah!” Chris agreed. “Good idea. Jamie, pass me your phone?”

It was early summer in the Lord's year 2016, which meant they were listening to one thing and one thing only: The _Hamilton_ original Broadway cast recording. 

Kevin and Davis had been swimming for about thirty minutes by the time it got to Connor’s favorite song: _Helpless_. He had sung along to every song thus far from the comfort of his little corner of the raft, trying his best not to think about the fact that he was sitting in smelly brown river water, but this was his special number. He had to go _big_. 

Maybe it was all the beers or the laughter or the hot, blazing sun shining down from the relatively cloudless sky, but Connor momentarily managed to forget the fact that they were still floating rather precariously atop moving water and decided to stand up. 

“Whoa!” James shouted and reached out to Connor to steady him. “What’re you doing?”

But instead of answering, Connor just kept on singing as he struggled to stand all the way up. Beer in hand, he stretched out his arms to try and regain his balance. He could feel the thin material of the raft wobbling beneath his feet, but he was a natural-born dancer. If there’s anything he excelled at, it was balance. 

“ _I’m h-e-l-p-l-e-s-s!”_ He belted at the top of his lungs, deliberately facing the general direction of where Kevin was swimming. _“Look into your eyes and the sky's the limit!_ ”

He’d never been very good at resisting the pull of a good rhythm, and so it wasn’t long before he once again managed to forget the fragile nature of the “ground” on which he was standing. It didn’t help matters that he was five beers down and his self-control was rapidly deteriorating. He grinned down at Kevin swimming in the water below, who’s eyes had gone wide the moment Connor stood up. 

“ _I'm h-e-l-p-l-e-s-s!_ ” He raised the beer to his lips as he sang, swinging his hips from side to side to the intoxicating beat. Inhibitions pushed to the back of his mind and not really caring who was watching, he kept his eyes lasered in on Kevin as he began to slowly undo his life preserver, all while singing and swaying back and forth to the music. 

“ _Down for the count and I'm drownin' in 'em!_ ” 

He gleefully swung the life jacket around his arm, sending it hurling into the water, smacking Kevin right in the face. His boyfriend’s big brown eyes were wide at attention as it bounced off his nose, his cheeks growing pinker by the second. He was certainly embarrassed, but in the best possible way. Nothing pleased Connor quite like a beet-faced Kevin.

“ _Oooooh, you got me help—_ ahh!”

He was cut off by the bottom of his foot rolling over one of the many unopened beer cans floating about the raft water. Flailing his arms, he didn’t have much of a warning before he fell, bouncing over the side of the raft and into the water. 

His world went black and cold as he sank down into the deep, but he frantically paddled upward, letting out a shocked gasp as he surfaced, his lungs autonomically sucking in a sharp breath of air. Moments later, Kevin’s arms were around him, hoisting him upward toward the edge of the raft. Connor had no idea how high up it was from his position in the water, but right then it seemed about a zillion feet away. 

Chris and James were shouting at him to grab onto their hands, presumably to pull him back up. Connor wasn’t that big, but he wasn’t the thinnest person, either, and so it took Kevin pushing him up by his bottom and a few tugs from his friends before they managed to get his body up and over the side of the raft.

And then— _no_. Just as his friends pulled him head-first back in, he felt his bottoms get stuck on the raft and begin sliding the opposite way, behind him and down his thighs. 

Connor spat out a mouthful of river water as soon as he landed face-down in the raft, ass bare up over the side for everyone to see. An explosion of laughter came from all directions and he once again regretted ever coming on this damn camping trip.

It didn’t take long for Kevin to yank his shorts back up where they belonged, thank _God_. A moment later and Kevin was back in the raft, as well, dissolving into a fit of laughter as he fell down beside him.

“This isn’t _funny_ ,” Connor snarled as he struggled to sit up. He gave up after a moment and resigned to flopping down on his back, squinting up at the piercingly-bright sun while everyone around him got their rocks off.

“Relax.” Kevin smiled and ruffled Connor’s hair. “It happens. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Did you get it?” Davis asked giddily as he hopped back into the other raft, presumably referring to the GoPro on Neeley’s head that had undoubtedly captured the entire ordeal. Because _of course_ it did. 

“Oh, yeah,” Neeley confirmed, sounding entirely too pleased, “I _sure_ did.” 

Connor sighed as Kevin unceremoniously lifted him up by the armpits and sat him down on the inflatable seat. 

“I really hate camping.”

* * *

“Oh, this is _disgusting_.” Connor wrinkled his nose as they stepped out of the changing room and into what the campground had some _nerve_ to call ‘the showers’. There was dirt _everywhere_ ; caked onto the walls, the doors, everything. “Do they actually expect us to _shower_ in this filth?” He asked, nearly vomiting as he peeked into the first of the two stalls. “Oh, this is just… this is disgusting.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Kevin smirked, looking annoyingly unfazed at the murkiness of their surroundings as he sauntered up to the second stall. He opened the door, looked around, and then— “ _Ahh!_ ” 

“What is it?” Connor jumped in front of him, hands raised as if ready for battle. But his worry turned to amusement the moment his eyes landed on the object of Kevin’s distress: a medium-sized black spider, slowly crawling its way up the moldy tile. 

Connor snorted and turned to his boyfriend, who was now leaning back against the wall, face paled and eyes glassy. 

“Get it for me,” Kevin demanded breathlessly, still trying to back up further into the wall, but Connor just folded his arms across his chest and grinned. _Finally_ , some payback. “Well, don’t just _stand_ there,” Kevin huffed. “Get it!”

“Oh, no.” Connor shook his head, leaving no room for argument as he turned and opened the door to the other stall. “This entire thing was _your_ idea, mister ‘camping-is-fun-even-the-gross-parts’.” He stepped into the stall, which, thankfully, seemed to be free of any noticeably large vermin. Glancing back at Kevin, he flashed him a deliberately wicked grin. “Have fun!"

“ _Connor!_ ” Kevin hissed in that put-out way he did sometimes, then proceeded to bang on the door. “Come on, let me in! I’m not showering with that thing.”

“Then kill it!” Connor called out from inside the stall, though his focus was no longer on teasing Kevin. Not only was this stall even _filthier_ than the last, but he also had no idea how to operate the shower. There was a shower head, yes, but no knob or spigot in which to turn it on. 

“Connor, come _on!_ ” Kevin whined from outside the stall. “This isn’t funny. Let’s just shower in yours and get the Hell out of here.”

Connor only half-heard him, however, as he was growing more and more frustrated with not understanding how this sorry excuse for a shower worked. It was even ricketier than the one they had in Uganda and that was _really_ saying something. 

He then noticed a beaded metal cord, hanging from the ceiling near the shower head. He gave it a tug and—oh, _shit_ , that’s _cold_ , he thought as the water sprayed him. But at least it worked. The second he let go of the cord, however, the water slowed down and came to a stop. He frowned. 

“You were right, okay?” Kevin relented. “Camping’s gross. Now, let me in there, alright?” 

Connor would have ordinarily grinned at the pained reluctance in his boyfriend’s voice, but he was just so unbelievably _frustrated_. 

“Connor?” Kevin once again knocked at the door. “Did you get eaten by spiders?”

“No,” he sighed and angrily punched the wall. “The stupid shower’s broken.” He opened the door and stepped out in a huff. “I can’t get it to stay on for more than two seconds. It keeps on stopping and starting.”

“Really?” Kevin gave him a skeptical look and stepped into the shower. 

“I’m complaining about this place on Yelp the _minute_ we get home,” Connor growled to himself as he paced outside the stall. “I'm talking _zero_ stars, Kevin. This is _completely_ unacceptable.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “First, we have to swim in that _disgustin_ g river, and then they don’t even let us _shower_ afterwards? I mean, what is this? A prison?”

Kevin tugged on the beaded cord just as Connor had done and, sure enough, a burst of water came shooting out of the shower head and right onto Kevin, along with the towel wrapped around his waist. The moment he let go of the cord, however, the water stopped. 

"See," Connor gestured to the faulty appliance, "Broken."

“It works perfectly fine,” Kevin snorted as he removed the soaking wet towel from his waist and hung it on the hook. Connor’s gaze immediately moved downward. “You just don’t know how to use it.” 

“What are you talking about?” Connor shook his head, trying to pry his eyes away from Kevin’s wet…. nakedness. It was _such_ a distraction. He stepped into the shower and looked up at the cord. “Every time I let go, the water stops. How is that ‘working correctly’?”

“Because that’s how these showers _work_ , you giant camping noob,” Kevin laughed and pulled Connor into him from behind, the feeling of soft hands slinking around his waist sending a shudder of electricity from the top of his chest all the way down to… _yes_. 

Wait, _no_. _No_. He couldn’t get turned on _here_ , in this disgustingly underserviced outdoor shower. It was vile and moldy and _gross_ and so he tried once again to shake it off. They couldn’t do _that_ again. Last night was enough. It would _have_ to be enough. 

“Okay, watch,” Kevin said to him from behind. “You pull on the cord with one hand,” he demonstrated the action as he spoke, “and wash yourself with the other.” 

Connor blinked. "At the same time?" 

“Yes.”

“The _entire_ time?”

“Yes.”

" _God_ ," Connor groaned and angrily disentangled himself from Kevin. “This _sucks_.” He kicked at the disgusting shower wall with a low growl. “Camping _sucks_.”

“Okay, okay, I have an idea.” Kevin brought Connor back into him and ran his hands down the front of his stomach, expert fingers undoing his towel in one swift movement. The gesture made Connor groan again, though this time out of a very different frustration. As if things weren’t already bad enough, he was rapidly growing more and more turned on the longer they stayed like this. He blamed Kevin, of course, for being all wet and naked and _touching_ him with those stupidly soft fingers of his. Kevin’s hands were very skilled at making him feel this way, even if they were surrounded by grimy tile and the lingering scent of dead fish.

“What do you say we work together, huh?” suggested Kevin, whose hands were still roaming up and down the length of Connor’s belly, the tips of his fingers grazing dangerously close to the tuft of auburn hair that sat a few inches below his belly button. Connor twitched under the touch. “I’ll hold down the cord while you wash and you hold it for me while I wash.”

“Hmmm… I have a _better_ idea,” Connor hummed, openly defying all of the voices in his head telling him that this was a _bad_ idea. “Why don’t _you_ hold down the cord while _I_ take care of the washing?” He winked and flashed Kevin his flirtiest smile. “That sounds like more fun, doesn’t it?”

Without waiting for an answer, he bent down to pick up the shampoo, making sure to give Kevin a good, long look at his _ass_ ets as he did so. 

“This oughta get that pesky dead fish smell out,” Connor grinned as he squirted a huge dollop of soap into his palm. 

Kevin sent him a smirk back, though Connor could tell his boyfriend’s higher brain functions were already going into overdrive, trying to convince himself that this was most certainly a bad idea that could only lead to one thing and one thing only. But Connor just smiled innocently and motioned for him to turn around. He did so after a brief moment of hesitancy, pulling the cord with one hand and scratching at his bare thigh with the other. 

Connor stood back and allowed himself one blissful moment of selfishness. He had _Kevin_. He had Kevin in the _shower_. A gross shower that was in dire need of some TLC, yes, but he wasn’t going to think about that right now. He had _Kevin_ , naked and shiny and wet, a constant stream of water running over his lightly tanned skin, dripping down his face, his back, his legs, his—

Connor squirmed a little in place. He didn’t think it was possible for him to get this excited in a filthy public shower, of all places, but as he worked the coconut shampoo into a lather against Kevin’s back, the continuous stream of sudsy water cascading down his skin, Connor couldn’t help the erection he felt growing against Kevin’s thigh.

The thigh must have felt it, too, as Kevin turned around a moment later, lips quirked into a knowing smile as he looked down at Connor’s little—erm, well, _not_ so little—problem. 

“Sorry,” Connor breathed, a wave of warmth spreading over his cheeks. “It’s just.. I never get to see you like this.” He ran a pair of soapy hands down the length of Kevin’s sides, the skin beneath his fingers delightfully slippery. “In the shower, I mean.” 

Kevin gazed at him a moment, lips parting seemingly of their own volition. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Connor’s mouth curved into a smile as he continued to trail his hands over Kevin’s skin. “You wanna?” He giggled mischievously and “accidentally” bumped their erections together. 

“I don’t know,” Kevin swallowed audibly, a pair of worried brown eyes flickering over Connor’s face. “This is, like... even more public than the tent." 

“Nobody’s in here,” Connor assured, pressing their bodies even closer together, “It’s okay.” 

“Someone could come in at _literally_ any time,” Kevin countered, sounding slightly breathless from the close contact. “It’s risky and you know it.” 

“True,” Connor hummed, as though he were actually considering the point, “but what’s life without a little _risk_ , huh?” 

Kevin’s eyes were dark and pleading, even more so than they had been last night, but Connor could also see that rational part of his brain fighting him on it, always battling the fun, more carefree side of himself for dominance. 

“It’s okay,” Connor whispered into his ear, running a slow hand down his chest. “We’ll be so quiet, it won’t even matter if someone comes in.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Kevin snorted. “When have you _ever_ been quiet?” 

He said the words, but a hand was already reaching down between them, grasping onto Connor’s hand and gently guiding it lower, to the patch of curly brunette hair just below Kevin’s navel. Connor met his eyes and he was once again surprised by the amount of genuine longing he found within them. Kevin wanted this just as much as he did, he was just better at suppressing it was all. Ironic, considering Connor was once so skilled at doing so. 

“We could, um,” Kevin cleared his throat, then did a weird gesture with his hand and mouth, “you know. But you _have_ to be quiet. For real, this time.” 

“It’s called a _blowjob_ , Kevin.” Connor gave him a wry smile, fully enjoying the slightly-annoyed, highly-embarrassed look that washed over his face in response. “God won’t be swooping down from the Heavens just to smite you. You’re allowed to say it.”

“Fine,” Kevin huffed, cheeks tinted an adorable shade of pink. “I can give you a _blowjob_.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper as he said the word. “Happy now?”

“Hmmm,” Connor hummed, his free hand still toying with the coarse little hairs below Kevin’s navel. “That would be nice, but, you know, I was _thinking,_ we still have all that lube from last night just sitting in the tent not being used.” He spoke in the most comically seductive voice he could manage, unfailing in its ability to coax a smile from Kevin’s lips. “It would be _such_ a shame to let it go to waste, don’t you think?”

The look in Kevin’s eyes grew even more pleading as Connor dipped his hand lower, letting it glide past his erection and down the inside of one of his thighs. He knew all of his boyfriend’s weak spots and his inner thighs were _definitely_ one of them. 

“Mmm….. fine,” Kevin relented, gently knocking their foreheads together. “We’ll do it. But _you’re_ making the trip this time.” Connor pulled back with a scoff. “I went last time,” he pointed a finger in Connor's face, “It’s only fair.”

“ _Fine_.” Connor rolled his eyes and reluctantly stepped back, not at all liking the feeling of separation that immediately followed. He cracked open the door and swiftly grabbed his shorts off the floor. “But _you’re_ being on bottom this time,” he said as he yanked them up over his thighs. “Clearly, I make too much _noise_.”

Kevin’s eyes widened. “Me?” He blinked in surprise. “But you always..." he stammered, a fresh wave of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, “you know.” 

“Can’t even say ‘bottom’, can you?”

He was only teasing him, of course, but Kevin didn’t return the smile, just looked away with a blush that was rapidly deepening. 

Connor hadn’t really considered it before now, but perhaps there was a _reason_ Kevin always wanted to make love to him instead of the other way around. They had experimented with various positions while on their mission, but quickly settled into a routine of Connor being on the bottom. Probably out of selfishness on Connor’s part as he honestly preferred it, but maybe there was an additional component to their arrangement he’d never taken into account.

His train of thought drifted briefly to their first few months in Uganda, to when Kevin had told him, after months and months of holding it back, that the General had hurt him—hurt him _there_. Connor still wasn’t privy to all of the details surrounding the incident, as Kevin didn’t like to talk about it, but perhaps the experience had affected him a bit more than he ever let on.

“Do you not want to?” Connor stepped forward, softening his tone to let him know he was being serious. “It’s okay if you don’t.” 

“No, I do,” Kevin assured him, reaching out and stroking down his arms. “Of course I do.”

“I just thought since we’re in public and apparently I make _so_ much noise…” He rolled his eyes. “But if you don’t want to, you know I have no problem getting…”

Kevin placed a finger over his mouth to shut him up, a pair of puffy, wet lips pulling into a smile. “I want to. I promise. Now, go get the stuff. If you wait any longer, it’ll look suspicious.”

“On it.” Connor grinned, laying one last kiss to Kevin’s cheek before slipping on his shoes and running out the door. 

* * *

Their friends were all busy drinking and making small talk around the fire when Connor came bursting into the campsite like a maniac. He practically dove into their tent and scrambled to find the supplies. He shoved them into one of Kevin’s spare bags to conceal them and ran out of there as fast as he could. 

“Forgot the shampoo!” 

A myriad of doubts and _maybe-we-shouldn’ts_ ran through his mind as he sprinted across the campground, as without the sight of a dripping wet, naked Kevin standing directly in front of him, the sensible part of his brain began to once again take hold. But pretty soon he was opening the door to their stall and there was Kevin—bare ass naked _Kevin_ —who grabbed him and pulled him close the moment he was back inside, all of those pesky doubts floating away as quickly as they came. 

A moment later and Kevin was pressing him up against the wall, frantically undressing him as he devoured his lips. Upon throwing Connor’s clothes over the top of the door, Kevin reached up and pulled down on the cord, hitting them both with a burst of lukewarm water. Keeping their lips locked, Connor reached over and felt around the rusted shelf, until he found the shampoo bottle he’d placed there earlier. 

“Here,” he murmured, relinquishing his grip on Kevin’s hip in order to pour out a good amount of gel into his palm, “Let me wash your hair.”

“Mmmph,” Kevin whined into his mouth. “What?” He panted, pulling back just enough to speak. “I didn’t think we were _actually_ going to wash.”

“Oh, I am _not_ having sex with you smelling like dead fish,” Connor spoke sternly and motioned for him to turn around. He let out a little noise that Connor knew was a complaint, but obliged, nonetheless, pressing one hand against the wall while the other pulled diligently on the cord. 

Connor took his sweet time in lathering up Kevin’s thick, dark hair, moving his fingers in slow, concentric circles over his scalp. He _loved_ washing Kevin’s hair, loved the way the locks felt as they slid between his fingers. It was enough to make him realize just how much he _missed_ this. Missed being with Kevin like this. It always felt so intimate, in a different way than regular sex did (though he certainly enjoyed that, too). 

They used to shower together quite often, back in Uganda, but hadn’t been able to do it much since returning home, where they were back living under their parents’ roofs. Sometimes they rented hotel rooms just for fun so they could sleep together and shower together and have breakfast together without having to put on pants, like they did in the old days, but it just wasn’t enough. He wanted _this_ , all the time.

He gently tilted Kevin’s head and angled it under the flowing water, shielding his eyes with his hand as the soap slid down his skin before vanishing into the drain. 

“Now for the rest of you,” Connor whispered against his ear. 

Letting go of Kevin’s hair, he poured a dollop of shampoo into his palm and worked it into a lather against Kevin’s back, smoothing it all over his body. He could tell Kevin wasn’t going to last much longer without whining again, but he was determined to draw this out as long as possible. There was just something so mesmerizing about seeing his normally-put-together boyfriend like this: eyes closed, cheek pressed against the wall, lips parted _just_ enough to allow the softest sounds of appreciation to slip out. Who was Connor kidding? Kevin wasn’t the only one who couldn’t last much longer. 

“My turn,” Connor announced and pulled him up by the back of his hair. 

Kevin had some trouble standing upright, eyelids thick and lidded as he blinked them back open. He looked flushed and spent, as though he’d already gotten fucked into oblivion, even though all that happened was that Connor had washed him. 

“Mmm,” Kevin whined and roughly pulled Connor close, drawing a sharp breath from his lungs. God, all of this was just so _hot_ , he thought as their lips crashed together. Which was really saying something, considering the abysmal state of the showers. 

Kevin pulled back slightly. “Can’t we just—”

“Not yet,” Connor breathlessly chided, waving a finger in his face. Kevin groaned. “Come on. It’s your turn.” 

He took the cord from Kevin’s hand and held it in place while Kevin shampooed him up. He repeated Connor’s earlier motions, but his hands were even softer and slower than Connor's had been, which was something that always amazed him about Kevin. The man had absolutely no rhythm when it came to any other endeavor—unless it was rowing a raft, Connor supposed—and so it always managed to pleasantly surprise him, the way Kevin was able to touch him like this, gentle palms and light fingertips traversing his body patiently, and carefully, in exactly the right way.

Skin eventually melted into skin and their grimy surroundings all but faded into the distance. Nothing existed but Kevin’s soft hands grazing his thighs, warm lips on his skin. Connor was up against the wall, now, trying his damndest not to moan as Kevin nipped at his neck, taking bits of skin into his mouth and then gently biting down. 

“Oh, _God_.” Connor closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the tile with a _thud_. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed Kevin. He needed Kevin _now_. 

Swallowing hard, he slowly lifted the head from his neck. When their eyes met, he could see Kevin's were dark with longing and his chest was visibly heaving. 

“Turn around,” Connor breathed, gently gripping Kevin’s hips and pressing him face-first into the wall. He may have done so a bit more roughly than necessary, but it was all just part of the fun. He hurriedly grabbed their supplies and, unlike Kevin had done the night before, made quick work of applying his condom and lube without any unnecessary preamble.

He ran a hand down Kevin’s dripping wet spine, taking a good, long look at him before lubing up one of his fingers and gliding it between his cheeks. He slowly slid them back up, stopping only to trace a tiny little circle over his hole. The unexpected touch elicited a sharp gasp from Kevin, but his eyelids soon fell closed, a pleading moan spilling from his lips, letting Connor know it was okay, that he wanted him to keep going. He obliged willingly, circling the tip of his finger around and around and around, dipping it in every so often. 

The sounds Kevin made as Connor touched him were soft, but beautiful, and when he ventured further by pushing an entire finger inside of him, he quite liked the deep, guttural groan it coaxed from the depths of Kevin’s throat. 

Making Kevin make _sounds_ was one of Connor’s favorite activities and he knew that the longer he touched him without actually _touching_ him, the more sounds he would make. Making Kevin reach his peak and feeling him fall apart in his arms was wonderful, too, but it was really just the icing on the cake compared to all that came before. Driving Kevin crazy brought more joy to Connor’s life than… well, most anything, probably. 

He kept one hand gripped on Kevin’s hip while the other worked him, all while watching attentively at the expression on his face, to make sure he was enjoying himself. He eventually upgraded to two fingers, and then finally three, pushing them in and out in a rhythmic motion, never stopping until Kevin’s jaw dropped all the way open, going slack against the tile, and his opening felt sufficiently stretched. 

Connor whispered what he hoped were encouraging words into Kevin’s ear as he readied himself against his bottom, lubing himself up one last time before pushing forward. Holding Kevin’s hip with one hand and threading his fingers through his hair with the other, he pushed deeper into him. He couldn’t quite go all the way, as Kevin was a lot less experienced at this than Connor, but it still felt incredible nonetheless. 

He brushed back a piece of Kevin’s hair so he could better see his face, looking for any sign of pain or discomfort as he ventured deeper. He wanted to be extra careful with him, especially given… well, given his past. 

“Is this okay?” Connor asked, running a thumb over Kevin’s cheek. “I can stop if you want.” 

“No, this is good,” Kevin nodded, sounding a bit out of breath as he spoke. He looked back at Connor and licked his lips. “You can, um. You know.”

Connor barely managed to suppress a chuckle. Everything sexual with Kevin was “you know”, but luckily he knew exactly what he meant in this particular circumstance. 

He began thrusting in a slow, but steady, rhythm, keeping his eyes trained on the side of Kevin’s face to make sure he was enjoying it. Judging by his closed eyes and partially-hung jaw, he sure as heck looked as if he was, but Connor still made sure to check in with him from time to time, just in case.

Kevin was much quieter than Connor when it came to sex, especially when he was on the bottom, and while he did let out the occasional moan or murmur of appreciation, they were always lower and softer than Connor’s. It saddened him, sometimes, the idea that Kevin might be going to great lengths to suppress himself during sex, even after all this time. Still, the way he got all self-conscious and shy about these things was simultaneously the most adorable sight Connor had ever seen in his life and was usually enough to wash most of the other not-so-pleasant feelings away. 

He gradually quickened his pace and Kevin’s soft, barely-audible moans grew into slightly louder ones, seeming too taken by the feeling to do anything but let it completely engulf him. It was painfully obvious, however, that it was growing increasingly difficult for Kevin to maintain his relentless grip on the beaded cord. Holding one arm above his head the _entire_ time couldn’t have been all that comfortable, and Connor wanted Kevin to be as comfortable as possible—whether they were in public or not. 

“It’s okay,” he said and slid a hand up the length of Kevin’s arm, not stopping until he reached the fingers that were wrapped tightly around the cord, “You can let go.”

He gently unfurled each of Kevin’s fingers, bright red at the tips from the pressure of the beads. Lacing their hands together, he gently pulled them down and the pummelling water gradually came to a stop.

“It’s quiet, now,” Kevin breathlessly stated as Connor pushed back into him. “I don't like it.” 

Connor paused to listen, his lips pressed against Kevin’s back, where he had been planting delicate little kisses. Kevin was right—it _was_ pretty quiet. He was about to reach up and pull back down on the cord, just to appease Kevin’s worry-brain, when he heard a light shuffling coming from the neighboring stall. And then—

“Is that...” Kevin panted, opening his eyes and looking behind him. Connor heard it, too. The unmistakable sound of water pitter-pattering against the floor. “God, is there someone _in here_?” Kevin hissed in a hushed whisper. 

“It’s okay,” Connor cooed against his ear and with another gentle thrust, Kevin’s eyes slid closed once again, lips parting against the tile. 

“Mmmmm,” he let out a slightly louder moan as Connor pulled back out. It was difficult to tell if it was from pleasure or discomfort and so Connor hesitated a moment before pushing back in. As much as he wanted to keep going, he could see fresh lines of worry etched into the visible portion of Kevin’s face. 

“Do you wanna stop?” He whispered, letting his free hand tangle in his boyfriend’s hair. “It’s okay if you do. I don’t mind.”

Kevin shook his head. “No.” He let out a ragged exhale. “Just… put the water back on.” 

Connor smiled and wordlessly obliged.

They weren’t going to last much longer and Connor knew by the increasingly loud but still incredibly soft pleas and breathy moans slipping from Kevin’s lips that he was close. So was Connor and a few moments later, he reached down with his lone free hand and touched Kevin where he needed it most. A few strokes later and Kevin was quietly convulsing in his arms. Connor was fairly strong despite his soft exterior and held him up as he chased his own release.

“That was incredible,” Kevin breathed out as he turned around, bringing Connor into him as he fell back against the wall. His breaths were coming in harsh and uneven and he couldn't seem to say much else, just pulled Connor close as he tried to regain his composure. “I love you.”

Connor reached up and ran a slow thumb over his cheek. “I love you, too.” 

Kevin’s dopey-looking smile fell, however, as soon as the sound of a door opening and closing reverberated across the room, followed by the faint sound of muttered cursing. They turned to each other and immediately broke out into a fit of poorly-stifled snorts and giggles, but at least they had the good sense to cover each other’s mouths as they fell to the cold, wet tile in a tangled mess of limbs and uncontrollable laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don’t normally touch upon the ‘Book Thing’, especially not in lighthearted fics such as this, but this was my first time writing Kevin being on bottom and it just came out, sorry. Also, I had way way wayyyy too much fun writing this (especially the rafting scene lmao) and I hope you enjoyed it! All comments and kudos are very much appreciated. ^_^ 
> 
> There will only be 1 more chapter of this fic, btw. Can’t wait to finish it up and (finally) cross one of my (many) WIPs off the list! Also, for those who keep up with Second Star: I am hard at work on finishing up the last 3 chapters of that fic and hope to have it completed in its entirety soon!


End file.
